“No. Not yet.” Absently, he touched the scar on his chin.
I couldn’t argue—he had a lot to process.
He canted his head. “I’m much more interested in you explaining why you want to know about iron.”
“Do you really need to ask?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
I pointed towards the door. “That is the first time I’ve known peace in months.” Except for when I’d sunk into his arms, utterly torn apart. “I poisoned Ella, and then I killed all those people. Even the Lady of the Lake said I can’t control my magic.”
“That isn’t what—”
“You don’t know what she meant, Bastian. Maybe that’s exactly what she was saying. I seek to control it, but I never will. Doesn’t that fit her answer?”
His mouth flattened, scar going pale.
“I can’t control my power, so I need something that will shut it off. I couldn’t live with myself if I killed someone by accident.” I swallowed, eyes burning. “I’m not sure I can live with myself after…”
Those bodies at my feet. So many of them.
He gave me a gentle shake, bringing me back. “They were going to kill us, Kat. Maybe she wants me alive, but…” The muscles in his neck corded. “As far as she is concerned, you are expendable. At best, you saved both our lives. At worst, you saved yours. Both are worth whatever bodies you left on that battlefield.”
“But the pain—”
“Do you think they’d have given you a painless death?” He splayed his hand over my chest. “Did that arrow hurt?”
Not at first, but as oblivion had rolled in, yes.
I bowed my head. “I still can’t control it. I’m a danger to everyone. That’s why you have Rose guard me all the time, really, isn’t it?”
His silence was enough of an answer.
No one in the city was likely to harm me. Not while I lived under his protection. But I was a danger to them.
“Not… solely,” he said at last. “I want to keep you safe, whether that’s from attack or from how much it would harm you if you inadvertently hurt someone.”
“Then you understand why I need iron.”
“It will make you sick. It nullifies your ring and fae charm itself, but it blocks all incoming magic, including healing. It’s not the solution it seems to be. Maybe you didn’t feel too bad just now, but you were only wearing it for half an hour. Over time…”
“But I’m not fae.”
“No, but you heard the Lady of the Lake, and Elthea, too.” His face tightened at her name. “You’re not entirely human—not anymore. Iron makes gifted humans sick after a while. Who knows what it would do to you in the long term?”
“And what about the constant fear of poisoning someone? Isn’t that enough to make me ill?”
His hands fisted as he huffed. “Iron is a punishment, not something you do to someone you love.”
My next argument died on my lips. Love? No, he… he just cared about me. But my chest was doing something strange, like my heart danced, forgetting entirely about its normal beat.
“We’ll find another way.” Jaw muscle twitching, he backed off and turned away. “I’m running you a bath.”
I swallowed, searching for my voice as he threw open the bathroom door. “That isn’t going to fix me.”
“No.” With me following, he stalked into a bathroom with no ceiling. Above, the evening sky lit up with the first stars. “But it will get rid of the stink of whoever’s shirt that is.”
I sniffed the shirt. “Are you saying I smell?”
“Of another man.”
I sat on the edge of the large bath as steaming water ran into it. He glowered, looking between two bottles of bubble bath.
“You know I don’t need your permission to do this, don’t you?”
“You don’t need my permission for anything. But I hope you’ll reconsider.” He showed me the labels, and I chose the hyacinth and amber scent over the lilac one. “You’ve been making progress,” he muttered as he poured a generous dose into the bath. “If I help you, you’ll be able to use it. I felt you drain the trees—your magic is unseelie, like mine.”
Use it? I’d done enough with this power. Nausea rose in me, and I distracted myself by asking, “So… I didn’t poison the trees, I… drained the life from them?”
“Sort of. Their magic, not their life. But they’re connected—all living things have some link to the power that runs through the universe.”
“Ariadne said something like that. She feels it when she uses her magic—threads connecting everything.”
He made a soft sound of amusement. “Of course a threadwitch would see it that way. But I’m sorry. I sent you to all the wrong people for help and… it’s taken me embarrassingly long to realise.”
“Well, you were avoiding me a good portion of that time.” I arched an eyebrow at him and grinned when he looked up from frothing the bubbles.
“I was a coward, I confess, afraid of being alone with you too much.” His gaze drifted away, following the scented steam. “What a waste of time.” He seemed distant for a beat before shaking it off. “But you avoided me, too.”
“Fair point.”
We chuckled, and he left me to bathe. The water was hot and wonderful, the sunset beautiful, and there was no scar on my chest. I could almost persuade myself that although we were captives, this space was a haven from the outside world rather than a prison.
Overhead, the sky darkened to night, and when I emerged, I found Bastian already sprawled across the bed, asleep. I wasn’t surprised after the battle and the iron.
He thought he could help me, but it was better if I had no magic and couldn’t hurt anyone. I would get hold of iron. Somehow.
66
Kat
The next morning, guards woke us and led Bastian away for a meeting with the princess. They left breakfast, which I nibbled on as I paced the room and brooded over the bargain we’d made. It had to be enough to keep Bastian safe, didn’t it? Unless she decided to execute him. Surely she’d warn us.
It was past midday and I was half sick with worry by the time he returned looking pale and tired but otherwise fine. As soon as the guards removed the manacles and left, I flung myself into his arms.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” He stroked my back, pulling me close.
“I was afraid she was going to have you executed and I wasn’t going to have a chance to say goodbye.” I squeezed as tight as I could, burying my face in his chest and inhaling. A little sweat from the iron sickness, but there was also bergamot and cedar and him.
“Maybe tomorrow.” His chest vibrated with a soft laugh. “But for today she just asked about Tenebris and the courts. I kept it general—things you could hear on most street corners. Nothing to worry about.”
“Good. Good.”
When I pulled back, I found him giving me an odd look—brow creased, gaze soft and skipping between my eyes. “Not so long ago, you said to me memento mori.”
My cheeks warmed at the reminder of having my kiss rejected.